They Called Me Trash? Now I'll Hack Their World-Chapter 156: Engagement Gift [1]

Holy shit!

A relic.

An actual, genuine relic-class item.

Doubling my mana pool alone would be incredible. But combined with increased regeneration and reduced costs?

This was the kind of equipment people built entire characters around.

Zen was still talking, his voice pulling me back to the present.

"This is the only thing I have that could possibly express our gratitude. Please..." he looked at the other elders, who all nodded and added their voices, "Accept this. You’re our hero. You saved us when nobody else would."

The other elders echoed the sentiment.

"Please accept it, Young Master."

"We owe you everything."

"This is the least we can do."

I sat there, distinctly uncomfortable with the level of formality and gratitude being directed at me, but looking at the ring, at those effects—

I’d be an idiot to refuse.

"I accept," I said. "Thank you."

Zen’s smile became radiant.

Then he handed the ring to Tessa.

"Go on," he said, gesturing. "Put it on his finger. It would be rude for him to do it himself."

Tessa took the ring carefully, stood, and moved around the table to where I sat.

I held out my hand automatically, left hand, because that seemed less formal somehow—

She took my hand gently, her fingers warm, and slid the ring onto my ring finger.

The moment it settled into place, I felt it.

A rush of energy, like a door opening inside my chest that I hadn’t known was closed. My mana pool expanding, the sensation almost dizzying.

[ITEM_EQUIPPED]

item: "ring_of_the_warden"

status: SOUL_BOUND (permanent)

I stared at the ring on my finger, dark metal gleaming faintly, the blue stone pulsing with subtle light in time with my heartbeat.

This is incredible.

Then I looked up at Zen with genuine curiosity.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

Zen nodded. "Of course."

"How do you have a ring like this?" I studied it again.

"This looks... extremely valuable."

Zen’s expression shifted, becoming more serious.

"It originally belonged to my late wife," he said quietly. "She gave it to me after I rescued her during the Northern Border Conflict."

My eyes widened. "Then were you—"

Zen puffed his chest out, his weathered face breaking into a proud grin.

"That’s right! I had served in the army."

He smirked. "Can you guess my rank?"

"Well..." I said honestly, "I think you might have been a foot soldier."

One of the elderly men burst out laughing.

Zen’s face went through several expressions rapidly.

"You brat! I was the Warden of the Northern March! Third highest military position in the entire northern campaign!"

He gestured expansively. "I commanded fifteen hundred men! I held three fortresses against forces five times our size!"

The other elders were nodding, expressions fond.

"He was a legend," the grey-bearded man said. "The Duke himself commended Zen’s service personally."

Zen settled back, his expression becoming more somber.

"I got crippled in the final push," he said, touching his left leg briefly. "Took a spear through the knee and another through my hip. And also, my mana reserves got permanently shut off. The healers did what they could, but..." He shrugged. "I could still walk, but not well enough to fight or command. So, I retired. Came here and started over."

He smiled, looking around the table at the other elders.

"These old bastards took me in. Made me feel useful again."

"We’re not that old," one of the elderly women protested.

"You’re older than me!"

"By six months!" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

"Still older!"

I watched the exchange with growing amusement. These people had clearly known each other for decades.

After the laughter died down, Zen’s expression became softer.

"The ring," he said, holding up his own hand to show where he must have worn it before, "was very precious to me. My wife... her name was Rebecca; she was the daughter of a Marquess."

He paused.

"She gave me this ring the day she confessed her love to me. I was already crippled by then. Already retired. Just a broken soldier trying to figure out what came next."

His voice thickened slightly.

"But she chose me anyway. Abandoned her household, her title, her inheritance... all of it. Followed me here to this small village and never looked back."

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Then leaned over and wiped his nose on the nearest elder’s sleeve.

"OI!" The elderly woman he’d just used as a handkerchief slammed her hand down on the table.

"Fuck off, you bastard! Use your own sleeve!"

"Yours was closer!"

"I’ll make you eat that napkin!"

I stared at the exchange, at how casually they cursed and hit each other despite being formal village elders at a dinner meant to honor me.

Tessa was hiding a smile behind her hand.

Rowan looked entirely unsurprised, like this was completely normal.

Sira just shook her head fondly.

Zen straightened, composing himself, and continued like the interruption hadn’t happened.

"The ring then went to my son when he came of age. He gave it to his wife when he confessed to her, same tradition."

His expression was distant, nostalgic.

"And she saved it. Said she’d give it to their daughter’s fiancé when the time came. As a family heirloom, passed down at confession."

I nodded slowly. "That’s a nice tradition."

Wait.

My brain caught up to what he’d just said.

Their daughter’s fiancé.

Their daughter.

Tessa is their daughter.

Which would make this ring meant for—

I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth.

I looked at Zen, who was grinning like a cat that had caught a particularly fat mouse.

Then at Tessa, whose face had gone completely red, her eyes wide.

Then at my hand, at the ring on my ring finger specifically.

Then back at Zen.

"For her f-fia—"

Zen’s grin widened impossibly further.

"You like the engagement gift?" he asked pleasantly. "Grandson-in-law?"

The table went completely silent.

My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

No words came out.

Tessa looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.

Rowan’s expression had gone through shock and was rapidly approaching something between horror and barely suppressed fury.

Sira was covering her mouth, eyes dancing with amusement.

The other elders were all grinning, clearly in on this from the beginning.

"I—" I managed. "This is—"

"A wonderful match!" one of the elderly men said cheerfully.

"She likes you," another added.

"And you clearly respect her," the grey-bearded man contributed.

"You called her talented multiple times!"

"And a genius!"

"And said she’d make someone a hell of a wife!"

Zen leaned back in his chair, utterly pleased with himself.

"So," he said, "when should we start planning the wedding?"